The Palouse Revisited

The Palouse seems quiet on its surface this time of year, with fallow fields and idle farm equipment reposing. But the signs of spring are already visible. New equipment is poised to take on the spring crops, farmers out working on their farms are busy gettting ready

There are repairs to be made, new varieties to be considered, and if they're lucky, even a new piece of equipment to break in.

Lower Dry Creek farm                             © Diane B. Reed

Even the predators – hawks, owls, and coyotes seem to know that the growing season will be on them in lttle time and they search ceasingly for the prey that is usually hidden by wheat fields.

A well-fed coyote on the hunt                          © Diane B. Reed

Soon the Palouse will be abuzz with new life on the wheat farms, in the nests, and in the burrows. The never-ending cycle continues.

The Palouse

A rare tree in the Palouse, north of the Walla Walla Valley                   © Diane B. Reed

North of the Walla Walla Valley, the hills of the Palouse unfold, stretching north and east through eastern Washington and into Idaho. The soil (known as loess), deposited on the hills over millions of years, provides a fertile base for dryland wheat farming, which has been carried on in the Walla Walla area since the mid nineteenth century.

Walla Walla Grain Growers Dry Creek elevators       © Diane B. Reed

Although the hills roll on for miles and miles, there are very few buildings, save for an occasional grain elevator. A visitor to our area, familiar with more traditional Midwestern farms asked where the fences were. A local farmer reminded him that you don't need to fence wheat. And when he asked where the farmhouses were, the farmer told him that most of the wheat farmers lived in town, not out in the lonely windswept hills.

Every time I venture into the Palouse I'm reminded of the phrase "high, wide, and lonesome." But there is real beauty in the endless panorama of undulating hills and valleys stretching as far as the eye can see.

  Wheat stubble on the Palouse                                                        © Diane B. Reed

Changeable Weather

College Place, Walla Walla's quiet neighbor                                      © Diane B. Reed

It's been a changeable winter here in the Walla Walla Valley. We've had our share of snow, rain, wind, and overcast skies. But when the sun comes out the valley shows off its natural beauty, even in its winter garb. It's been downright balmy this past week, warm enough to fool us into thinking that spring might be just around the corner. But, of course, it's only a matter of time before winter returns with a vengeance. 

California Quail                                                 © Diane B. Reed

The birds at our feeders keep up their single-minded pursuit of food. They're unimpressed with a few warm days—they can't afford to be.They noisily jockey for position, while quail scratch around below the feeders for dropped seeds. 

California Quail                                                  © Diane B. Reed

The Cornell "All About Birds" web site describes the California Quail as a "handsome, round soccer ball of a bird with a rich gray breast, intricately scaled underparts, and a curious, forward-drooping head plume."  This fluffed-up fellow hiding under the bushes fits the description.

Magpies, Crows, and Ravens

Mischevious Magpie knocks snow off onto the hawk

© Diane B. Reed

In my "Ponderings" column in Walla Walla Lifestyles I've mentioned the antics of our local Magpies, who seem to delight in causing trouble wherever they go. Actually, they're pretty typical Corvids (Crows, Jays, and Ravens are their cousins). The Corvids are also the most intelligent of our feathered friends.Unlike most of the birds in our neighborhood, our Magpies always seem to announce themselves when they arrive, strutting around and looking for something to get into. So when I saw a Magpie land on the tree where a Sharp-shinned Hawk was perched, I guessed that he wouldn't let things well enough alone. Sure enough, he worked his way closer and closer to the hawk. The hawk seemed to ignore him, though I'm sure he knew he was there.  Finally, he was perched on the branch directly above the hawk. He cocked his head back and forth, then, in the wink of an eye, he knocked the snow off the branch onto the hawk. The hawk ruffled his feathers to shrug off the snow and pointedly ignored the troublemaker. The Magpie sat there for awhile and seemed to contemplate if there was anything else he could do to bedevil the hawk. Apparently he couldn't think of anything, so he flew off to look for a livelier game elsewhere. 

The Crow boys looking for adventure                  © Diane B. Reed

Crows are regular visitors to the pond, and also seem to be looking for amusement. Many evenings in the summer we see flocks of them heading off for their roosts.

Ravens mostly fly over the pond without stopping. They are a real source of fascination to me ever since I went to a Natural History workshop led by University of Vermont professor Bernd Heinrich, who wrote The Mind of the Raven and Ravens in Winter. I highly recommend either of his books. His work with Ravens has also been the subject of several documentaries.

Crow ruckus          © Diane B. Reed

Their level of intelligence is remarkable, and along with some Crows they are actually able to make and use tools to secure their food. There are several videos on YouTube showing Crows making and using tools.  Hardly bird-brained!